


More Roman Than Syrian

by notsodarling



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Canon Era, Episode: s02e02 A Place In This World, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsodarling/pseuds/notsodarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron did not expect to want to know the boy from the villa who had made an attempt on Spartacus' life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Roman Than Syrian

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching 'A Place In This World' and this sort of happened. Of course, most of the dialogue is right from the show, but I wanted to look into what Agron was thinking while everything was going on.

At first, Agron does not pay much attention to the defiant house slave that makes an attempt on Spartacus’ life. He is young, perhaps only a couple summers younger than Duro. His raven hair is pulled back from his face with an intricate braid, his ear pierced in a way that Agron is sure has something to do with the boy being a body slave. But it is the look in the boy's eyes that draws Agron in. He does not fear death for his attempt on Spartacus, and in fact welcomes it. Spartacus will not grant it, associating such a desire with the Romans, despite it being something both Agron and Crixus agree on.

Agron thinks it funny that the first time he and the fucking Gaul see eye to eye on something, it is the death of an ungrateful house slave.

“And how do you propose we train this wild little dog?”

Agron’s question finally gets a response out of the slave, who attempts to hiss back in rage. Two strong set of arms hold the slave boy back, otherwise Agron is sure there would be an attempt made on his life as well.

  ** **\-------------------****

Spartacus takes up the training of the boy who had made the attempt on his life, something most of the rebels do not agree with. Donar makes his thoughts known during the day while he and Agron lead in the training of some of the other house slaves and put them through the paces Doctore had put them through back at the ludus. It is obvious that the slave has never fought with sword before, as he continues to reveal weakness, Spartacus striking his arm, and his shoulder repeatedly, shield forgotten at his side. The boy merely snaps back, continuing to show anger toward Spartacus and the freedom he has been granted.

Agron, who has only known freedom in Germania his whole life, does not understand the hatred and anger this boy has toward Spartacus. He does understand why anyone would rebel against being granted freedom.

“Should have put the boy down. A dog bites once, it will bear fucking teeth again.”

“Pity,” Agron replies, as he watches Spartacus and the slave boy. Despite the attempt the boy had made on Spartacus’ life, Agron is attracted to the boy. Watching him train with Spartacus, Agron realizes he wishes to know this boy, learn why he attacked Spartacus, and why he did not revel in the freedom granted. Agron hopes he may still get a chance to speak to him.

********\-------------------** ** ** **

Opportunity grants itself later that night, during evening meal and celebration. The slave boy sits against a column in the front of the villa, his gaze directed toward Spartacus. Even Agron cannot deny the beauty of this house slave, and probably the reason he was given position of body slave to his dominus. Agron tries to recall what it felt like the last time he felt attraction, and cannot.

Picking up two cups of wine, Agron makes his way over to the boy. He would have words, and at least learn the boy’s name, if nothing else. It does not sit well with Agron for him to hold these feelings and yet not have a name to call the boy. He wishes, not for the first time, that Duro was still alive. Agron has always been loud and able to speak his mind, but the joking words of his brother were always there to help him along as well.

“You press fortune, glaring so at the slayer of Theokoles.”

“His victory but proving even giants fall.”

Agron does not take offense in the statement, and hands the slave boy the extra cup of wine, surprised it is accepted. The slave boy seems surprised at the gesture, mostly likely due to Agron’s position next to Spartacus, and the words spoken after the boy’s attempt on Spartacus’ life. It is even more a surprised to Agron when the boy drinks from the cup, accepting the friendship Agron offers.

“What name do you go by, little man? So I may properly mourn your passing?”

It is a statement Agron makes in jest, needing to have some other reason to learn the boy’s name. He does not wish to see the boy die, but he fears being thought of as too forward if he had let his intentions known.

“I am called Tiberius.”

No, that can not be this boy’s name. “You are far too dark to have such a fair Roman name.”

“I am more Roman than Syrian.”

Agron nods in agreement. A boy, taken from his homelands then. Sold into slavery, and a Roman name forced upon him because his dominus did not like the way the name fell upon his lips. Agron has only ever known one other Syrian, and he hopes this one is nothing like him.

“There was a Syrian at our ludus. A treacherous fuck if ever there breathed.” Tiberius barely acknowledges Agron’s words, perhaps unsure of how to react to being compared to someone he has no knowledge of, only because they share homelands. “You had family there?”

“I only recall a brother.”

A brother. Something mutual between them. Although this boy does not know the fate of his, from the sound of his voice, so Agron shares details of his own. He reels back the pain that comes with thinking of Duro, and shares a bit.

“I too had a brother.” Agron forces the words out, as they are still difficult to say even now.

“No longer?”

Agron shakes his head, attempting to keep from showing emotions on his face. He will not show more than is necessary to this boy for now. His mourning of Duro still too close, too private. But perhaps, he can give Tiberius some hope and reason for turning swords against the Romans and their enslavement of entire peoples for their own amusement.

“He was struck down by the Romans.”

Agron feels the slave boy’s gaze upon him, but he does not look. To look, he knows, would be to reveal more than he wishes. So Agron stares ahead, watches the festivities instead.

“When you turned swords against them?”

Agron takes a deep breath before continuing. In their short conversation, this boy has allowed Agron to reveal more than intended. Mentions of Duro, of his death, have only resulted in anger and blood before. Agron does not wish to see this Tiberius harmed, and pulls back his rage, forcing a smile.

“As you shall one day. If you hold any fucking sense.”

Agron cannot stay near him any longer. This boy will be his undoing, of that Agron can see. It is enough for tonight, and Agron quickly gets up and leaves, making his way back across the yard. He requires more wine until there are Romans for him to kill, a way for him to unleash his rage and anger.

****\-------------------** **

Crixus and Acer returns from the look-out with news of soldiers approaching the villa. There aren’t very many options to keep the Romans off their backs, the only solution to be engaging in battle with them. With a glance at Tiberius and the other free house slaves, Spartacus suggested a different option.

“Allow Tiberius to greet them.”

“Is that wise?” Crixus asks, eyeing Tiberius and not trusting someone so new to the rebellion. Agron holds his tongue, but lets his eyes fall to the boy, sitting near the wall, listening to their conversation.

“He shall greet them at the gate, share words that his dominus has travelled to the city. Surely this is not uncommon?”

Tiberius stands to join them.

“He has made trips to Picentia. It may provide reason enough for the soldiers to leave.”

Agron nods, and looks to Spartacus. The logic is sound, even though none of them can be sure if Tiberius speaks the truth. They must place their faith in him, and hope it is truthful.

On Spartacus’ command, rebels place themselves inside the villa and store house in case the soldiers do not believe Tiberius’ tale. Spartacus and Crixus wait inside the village, while Agron decides to wait inside the storehouse in the yard.

He realizes later, as Tiberius stands on the porch of the villa, he chose this because he can watch Tiberius. Had he been inside the villa, Agron would have only been able to glimpse the boy’s back. Now, he can see how Tiberius acts in the presence of the soldiers, he stands tall, and speaks as though a slave would - but with one who holds command of a house in the absence of the dominus.

The soldier makes motion to leave, but pauses, as if noticing something. Agron does not understand the reason at first, and Tiberius even looks as though he’s just remembering something important. He watches as Tiberius lowers his head, as if suddenly unsure. The soldier quickly glances around, as if looking for someone - and then Agron understands.

His collar is missing.

“Fuck the gods,” Agron hisses from his lookout inside the storehouse.

But as the soldiers take their leave, Tiberius stops them, inviting them for a drink, and Agron understands it is the only way to keep them inside the villa walls. Moments later, Crixus, Spartacus and the others are fleeing into the yard to attack. Agron watches as Crixus pushes Tiberius back onto the porch and out of the way.

It is a sloppy mistake that sees Agron receive the blow to the face. He lets his anger and rage take over, and misses the soldier coming at him. He falls to the ground, and tries to spit the blood from his mouth. A glance around the yard reveals the same soldier heading toward Spartacus, sword in position to deliver a fatal blow.

“Spartacus!”

Agron watches as Tiberius grabs a sword dropped to the ground from one of the slain soldiers, and runs it through the soldier attacking Spartacus. Agron is grateful for the boy in that moment, when he could not recover quick enough to help.

Crixus, however, has a different thought. He grabs Tiberius by the neck, and slams the boy into a porch column, believing Tiberius meant to betray them to the soldiers. Agron does not interfere, although he will if need be. He allows Tiberius to speak, and to explain his decision.

“His eyes fell to my neck. He saw the absense of my collar. If I had not allowed him in, he would have returned with more men.”

The answer satisfies Crixus, who releases Tiberius, and Spartacus gives the boy gratitude for making the decision he did.

“You did well, Tiberius.”

“Nasir.” Tiberius looks around, and finally lets his gaze settle upon Agron. “My brother called me Nasir.”

Agron does not know how to respond to that information. Nasir. It is something that the boy has held on to for a long time, and finally able to reclaim it his own after being a slave with a Roman name for most of his life. Agron merely nods in understanding, knowing that he is lucky to have been able to retain his birth name while a slave at the ludus. Perhaps Nasir offers it up as a sign of trust, to show Spartacus and the others that he will join their cause.

Spartacus takes his leave, and Nasir takes a step toward Agron.

“Your lip,” he says, not daring to reach out. “Come, let us tend to it.”

It is a kindness extended back to him, Agron understands that. They are the beginning of a friendship, sharing bits of their past lives, while forging on ahead in the new ones they are living. Agron looks at this boy, and wonders what the future will hold for them.


End file.
